Wit & Attitude Quote by Jaime Hernandez

There is a particular kind of confidence baked into early self-regard: the belief that your own work will always feel like home. Jaime Hernandez frames that younger attitude with a disarming bluntness - “Are you crazy?” - the sort of conversational swagger that reads like punk ethos translated into craft. It’s not arrogance so much as momentum. When you’re building a world (as Hernandez has for decades), rereading isn’t nostalgia; it’s validation that the voice is intact, the characters still move.

Then the turn: “Now it’s a little harder.” The understatement does the heavy lifting. He doesn’t dramatize it as trauma or shame; he leaves space for everything that might make revisiting old pages difficult. Growth, for one: the better you get, the more you can see the seams. Time, too: older work becomes a fossil record of your tastes, blind spots, even your ego. For artists who make intimate, character-driven work, rereading can feel like encountering past versions of your own empathy - what you noticed, what you missed, what you simplified.

The subtext is less “my old work isn’t good” than “I’m no longer the person who made it.” That’s the quiet cost of longevity in art: the archive doesn’t just preserve your best moments; it preserves your unfinished self. Hernandez’s candor lands because it refuses the myth of linear mastery. It suggests that maturity isn’t only improved technique - it’s a more complicated relationship with your own history.